Meg Cabot Free Stories PDF

Reunion
Reunion By Meg Cabot
This short story originally appeared in the anthology Girls

Night Out, edited by Sarah Mlynowski and published by
Red Dress Ink in 2006. Other contributors included Emily
Giffin, Marian Keyes, Cecelia Ahern, and Kristin Gore.
All author proceeds from the collection went to War
Child. The book is now out of print, and rights to the
stories have since reverted back to the authors. Im happy
to offer this unedited version of mine, Reunion, for my
readers to enjoy for free. This short story is part of the New
York Journal Boy Series, Boy Next Door, Boy Meets Girl,
and Every Boys Got One, and is told exclusively in emails.
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Reunion
To: All
Sent: April 25, 2005 11:45AM
Fr: Scooter Potts <Scooter@bloomvillemotors.com>
Re: Bloomville High School Class of 95 Reunion
Bloomville High School Class of 1995

10 Year Reunion
Hey, fellow Panthers! Guess what time it is? Thats right: Our ten-year high school reunion! Can you
believe its been ten years since we graduated?
Though I still see some of you regularly (remember, theres a 10% discount for BHS grads here at
Bloomville Motors), it will be great to catch up with those of you who left Indiana for such far flung
places as New York City (Jo Buchanons mom says that Jos band, the Raving Lunatics, got a real positive
review in The Village Voice for their first ever gig at the Wa Wa Hut)!
So put in that vacation request today, and start planning on an exciting weekend of fun connecting with
your fellow classmates!
When: Friday Night July 15th at 8:00 p.m
What: Casual gathering at TGIFs on Main Street
When: Saturday Morning/Afternoon, July 16th, from 11:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m.
What: Join classmates for a family picnic on the BHS football field
--A tour of the newly renovated school (we have a pool now, Panthers!) will be available for all who wish
to take part
--Feel free to bring friends and family
--Activities will be planned for the children
When: Saturday Night, July 16th, from 7:00 until 11:00 p.m.
What: Reunion dinner, dancing, and fun in the BHS gymnasium
Catered by the Save-On Deli Department
Please plan on the fee to be $25-30 per person.
Looking forward to seeing you all--and dont forget, if you have automotive needs, Bloomville Motors
will beat any price, anywhere!
Go Panthers!
Fred Scooter Potts
Your Class President
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Reunion
Owner/Operator Bloomville Motors

Servicing Greater Duane County
We put the Serv in Service!
To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

Sent: April 25, 2005 11:49AM
Fr: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com
Oh my God, Jo. Did you see it?

M
To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Sent: April 25, 2005 11:55AM
Fr: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com
Oh, yeah. I saw it. Im going to KILL my mother. She gave him my email address. And she told him
about the gig.
I thought I was through with these people. Now theyre stalking me. Through cyberspace, anyway.
Youre not going, are you?
Jo

Sent: April 25, 2005 12:10PM
Are you kidding? Do you see who theyve got catering it? I guess it never occurred to Scooter to ask
a fellow alumnus to cater our reunion. Instead he had to ask the deli department of a national grocery
chain. I realize no one in our class ever cared how many trans fats they consumed in a single meal. But
you would think theyd have thought of hiring a locally owned business before seeking out the services of
a bloated national conglomerate that is strangling the small business person and ruining small town life as
we knew it.
Of course Im not going.
I mean, youre not going. Right?
M
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Reunion

Sent: April 25, 2005 12:27PM
Oh, right. You mean because I was so popular in high school, and there are so many people from there
that I miss? Seriously, Mary, the only person I still even speak to from those days is you.
And what kind of grown man still calls himself Scooter?
Jo

Sent: April 25, 2005 12:45PM
At least you didnt have to sit behind him in Chem, like I did. I have seen enough of that butt crack to
last me a lifetime.
M
To: All
Sent: April 25, 2005 1:01 PM
Fr: Terry Hicks <Thicks@aol.com>
Thanks, Scooter, and everyone, for getting this organized. I cant believe it has been ten years! So much
has happened since we all last saw one anotherit will be so much fun to see everyone again. Well be
heading over from Carmel with the kids as soon as Richs shift at the hospital is overhes head surgeon
now. Wow, time sure does fly! Cant wait to introduce you to our twin honor students!
Terry (Summers) Hicks

Sent: April 25, 2005 1:05PM
I still f***ing hate her.
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Reunion

Yeah. What, are we going to start a string of reply all messages from the whole class until reunion
time? Is everyone else really thrilled about this? I, for one, am not thrilled about seeing Terry Summers
Hicks again, with her perfect little kids and handsome head surgeon husband.
And did you see how she managed to slip in the part about living in Carmel? She thinks shes so great,
in her Mcmansion with her McMercedes and Mcmink coat.
Im going to be Mcsick.
M

Careful, Mary, Mary, your contrariness is showing.

Remember that time she called Jill Davis fat and you accidentally spilled your wheat grass juice all over
her cheerleading uniform? That was pretty sweet.
OH MY GOD!!!!! LOOK WHAT I JUST GOT:
<To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

<Sent: April 25, 2005 1:15PM
<Fr: Mike Saunders <MikeS@bloomvillegazette.com
<Re: Bloomville High School Class of 95 Reunion
<Hi Jo,
<I dont know if youll remember me, but we both went to Bloomville High. We didnt <have any
classes together, but I was a big fan of yours (I used to write for the school <paper, so I had to cover all
the bands concerts. Your solo keyboard rendition of <Creams Sunshine of Your Love at the Spring Jam
totally rocked).
<I dont usually write to girls I hardly know, but I got the email about the Class Reunion, <and saw your
address. Hope you dont mind. Congrats on the New York gig. Glad to <know youre still pursuing a
music career.
<Mike Saunders
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Reunion
WHO IS MIKE SAUNDERS????

Jo
*********************************************************************

I dont know!
Im going downstairs to get my yearbook now...back in a sec.
Okay, back, here it is.Oh. OH. MY GOD. Check out the attached.
M

Crazy Eyes! Crazy Eyes Saunders is stalking me!!!!!

Shut up, hes not stalking you. He just wrote to say hi. And look, I remember him now. He used to do
that thing with his eyes on purpose, whenever anyone would try to take a picture of him. There are shots
in here of him looking normal. He was on the yearbook committee. And the school paper. And in the
band. He was just goofing around.
M

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Reunion
A band geek! A band geek is stalking me!!!!! Why cant he go stalk Terry?
Jo

Would you stop? I told you, I remember him now. He was a nice guy. And hes now the features editor
for the Bloomville Gazette. He did a really nice write up of the store when I opened it.
You know, you could do a lot worse. And have. Considering some of your exes.
M

Oh, right, Mary. Because it wouldnt be too much of a clich if I came back for my tenth reunion, met
up with some random guy I dont even remember, and ended up marrying him and moving back to the
small town I left behind a decade ago. Excuse me, this isnt a Reese Witherspoon movie. Its real life.
And besides, if he liked me so much back then, why didnt he ask me out?
Jo

Hmmm, I cant imagine why he never asked you out. Possibly because you were going out with a guy
who had a safety pin stuck through his eyebrow all through high school? How could any other guy have
asked you out? Without Trent pulling a knife on him?
How is Trent, anyway? Did he ever get out of prison?
M
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Reunion

Why do you always have to bring up Trent? You know he was always perfectly sweet around me. It
wasnt his fault he had those issues.
Jo

Issues? Jo, the guy you dated all through high school was running a secret underground meth lab. I
guess all those charming friends of his named Gator and Bad Bart did not tip you off?
And your track record certainly improved once you dumped him, considering all the stellar boyfriends
youve had since.
I just checked with my friend Cindy over at the Gazette. Mikes still single. And hetero.
M

Oh my God, it was not my fault about Trent. HE TOLD ME HE WAS IN A BAND. Bad Bart is the
perfect name for a bassist. How was I to know it is also a good name for a dealer?
You know there are no straight, single men left in New York City. YOURE the one in straight-guy
central, out there in the Midwest. But who have YOU gone out with since high school?
Anyway, I cant chat anymore, I have to go audition new drummers for the band. The last one quit to
go work on a cruise ship. Rock n roll is dead.
Jo

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Reunion
Fine. Be that way. Ill find something to keep myself occupied until you get back.
M
To: Scooter Potts <Scooter@bloomvillemotors.com>
Dear Scooter,
Hi. You probably dont remember me, but I used to sit behind you in Chemistry in the 12th grade. I
now own Bloomville Health Foods on Main Street. Im sure youve seen it, as it is located next door to
TGIFs, an establishment I see you enter nearly every day during Happy Hour.
I am writing to ask that you reconsider using the Save-On Deli Department as your caterer for the
reunion dinner/dance. Not only is the Save-On completely oblivious to the amount of nitrates/chemicals
used to preserve their meats, but many of their foods are genetically engineered and laden with dangerous
trans fatswhereas at Bloomville Health Foods I see to it we only stock free-range, antibiotic free meats,
as well as pesticide free and locally grown fruits, vegetables, and dairy products. Dont you think our class
deserves the best? With Bloomville Health Foods, theyll get it.
Please let me know.
Mary Hutchins
Owner/Manager
Bloomville Health Foods
If you dont know where it came from, why would you put it your mouth?

Dear Mary,
Of course I remember you! Boy, did you ever help me with the periodic tablethat song you made up,
the one to help us remember all the elements? I still catch myself singing it to myself to this very day.
Its really great to hear from you. I had no idea you owned Bloomville Health Foods. How come you
never come over for Happy Hour at TGIFs? Its right across the street!
Anyway, Id love to hear any ideas you might have for catering the reunion. Why dont you meet me
over at TGs tonight, say, around six?
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Reunion
Cant wait to catch up!

Sincerely,
Fred Scooter Potts
Owner/Operator Bloomville Motors
Servicing Greater Duane County
We put the Serv in Service!
To: Scooter Potts <Scooter@bloomvillemotors.com>

Dear Fred,
I have a better idea. Why dont YOU meet ME at my shop, and Ill give you a sampling of the kind
food I think we should serve at the dinner dance? We do have a caf in the store, you know. And, though
this might come as a surprise to you, we do serve things other than alfalfa sprouts.
Of course, we dont serve beer. Do you think you can go one evening without slamming back some
brewskis with your buds?
Best,
Mary Hutchins
Owner/Manager
Bloomville Health Foods
If you dont know where it came from, why would you put it your mouth?

To tell you the truth, Mary, I only do the Happy Hour thing to keep my name and face out there. My
days as a small-town football hero are way past, and theres a lot of competition in the car dealer business
these days. We small business owners have gotta do whatever we can to stay in the game, as you well
know!
See you at your place at six.
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Reunion
Fred

Okay, Mary, so I wrote him back.

Heres what I said:
<To: Mike Saunders <MikeS@bloomvillegazette.com

<Sent: April 25, 2005 7:15PM
<Fr: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com
<Dear Mike,
<Hi. The truth is, I dont remember you at all. We obviously traveled in very different <circles in high
school. I did play Sunshine of Your Love in a concert once, but I think <you are otherwise getting me
confused with someone else. Its totally fine, I just <wanted to let you know. I wont be at the reunion,
because I dont really go in for those <kind of things, or care to relive that time in my life, which wasnt
all that
<great, although Im sure it was to people like Scooter Potts and Terry Summers. But I <hope you have
a nice time and a nice life.
<Jo
That sounded OK, right? I didnt want to be TOO mean.
But I didnt want him to think, you know, that Im interested.
Drummer auditions were a bust. There apparently isnt a single soul in this town who can drum and
also hold a normal conversation (without being high). I dont know what were going to do.
Sigh.
Jo

Sent: April 25, 2005 9:56 PM
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Reunion
Hello, Mary, where are you? Ive left you three text messages.
Jo

Sent: April 25, 2005 10:43 PM
Seriously, Mary, are you blowing me off, or something?

Sent: April 25, 2005 11:23 PM
OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY GOD!!!! I WROTE TO CRAZY EYES SAUNDERS AND LOOK WHAT

HE WROTE BACK TO ME:
<To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

<Sent: April 25, 2005 10:11PM
<Fr: Mike Saunders <MikeS@bloomvillegazette.com
<Hey, Jo. Thats okay about not remembering me. I wouldnt actually expect you <to, since youre
right, we did travel in pretty different social circles. I was <always studying. But it seemed like whenever I
looked up, there youd be, doing <something zany with that friend of yours, Mary, like protesting the lack
of fresh <greens in the caf.
<Seeing your name just brought back some old memories so I thought I would send an <email.
<Like you, I wont be attending the reunion. I agree, Im not sure I want to relive those <days either
they were fine for people like Terri Summers and Scooter Potts, but for the <rest of us? Well, sucked is
not a strong enough word. I actually wont be living in <Bloomville much longer, thankfully. Im moving
out to your neck of the woods next <month. Ive landed a job at the New York Journal.
<Anyway, thanks for writing back, and good luck with the band. Did I mention I was in <marching
band in high school? I played the drums. Ive been thinking of taking them <up again if I ever get the
time (though I doubt that would go over well in a Brooklyn <apartment)!
<Maybe someday well bump into each other at the Hut.
<Take care.
<Mike
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Reunion
Crazy Eye Saunders is moving here! And he plays the drums! I forgot you said he was a band geek.
Hes a BAND GEEK WHO PLAYS THE DRUMS.

Sent: April 26, 2005 12:47 AM
WHERE ARE YOU???? I NEED YOU!!!! I need you to tell me not to write back to Crazy Eyes Saun-
ders and invite him to dinner when he gets here next month. Because you know what will happen:
I will fall madly in love with him, and then well get married, and then well have a baby, and then the
Raving Lunatics will fall apart because Ill have moved to the suburbs because be to busy carpooling the
kids to soccer practice to be in a band anymore.
I CANT BE THAT GIRL!
WHERE DID YOU GO???? Youre ALWAYS home watching HBO at this hour. Did some perv sneak
in your window and tie you to the bed and begin to do unspeakable things to you? Is it George Clooney?
E me as soon as you get this or Im calling my mother and making her go over there to check on you. If
its George Clooney let me know and Ill jump on the first plane and join you for a threesome (if you dont
mind sharing).
Jo

Sent: April 26, 2005 10:34AM
Im so sorry, I didnt mean to leave you in a lurch there. Something sort ofunexpected came up last
night, and I had to deal with it.
I agree, Mike sounds kind of cute. Are you going to write back?
M
Sent: April 25, 2005 10:36 AM
Uh, what? Thats it? No explanation? Where were you last night? What do you mean, something sort
ofunexpected came up? Why wont you tell me where you were?
God, I hate this stupid reunion thing! Its making everyone cRaZy. Im about to email Crazy Eyes
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Reunion
Saunders back and ask him if he wants to meet me for dim sum next month when he moves her, and now
youre acting all weird. Stupid Scooter and his stupid REUNION!!!
Jo

Sent: April 26, 2005 10:39AM
Well, the reunions not really Freds fault. I mean, hes more interested in moving on from high school
than any of us. Hes nothing like he was back then. Or how we thought he was. Or how I thought he
was. Really, hes changed. Hes lost a ton of weight. He pulls his jeans all the way up now.
But since he was class president, its not like he has a choice. He HAS to put this reunion together.
M

Sent: April 26, 2005 10:50 AM
Excuse mewhy are you calling Scooter by his real name, Fred? Why are you defending him? Did you
email him? Did you two meet up or something?
OH MY GOD.
YOU SPENT THE NIGHT WITH SCOOTER POTTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sent: April 26, 2005 11:05AM
HOW DID YOU KNOW?

Anyway, dont judge me. I cant help it. I like him.
I cant believe Im saying this.
But I like him.
M
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Reunion

Sent: April 25, 2005 11:15 AM
Mary, Im not judging you.

Im very happy for you.
BUT oh my God. Youre in love with Scooter Potts! I cant believe I have no one to tell. Except possibly
Terry Hicks and the entire BHS list-serv.
You know what this means, dont you?

Sent: April 26, 2005 11:20AM
Jo, please do not tell Terry Hicks and the entire BHS list-serv that Fred and I slept together last night.
Im begging you.
And Im afraid to ask what you think this means. Could you please just phone me and tell me?
And stop calling him Scooter.
His name is Fred.

Sent: April 25, 2005 11:15 AM
It means youre going! Youre GOING to the reunion. Arent you? ADMIT IT. Mary, Mary quite con-
trary is going to her class reunion!
With Scooter Potts!
Jo
Sent: April 26, 2005 11:29AM
Dear Jo,
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Reunion
Yes. Im going.
Please stop calling him Scooter. I like him. JoI think I might love him. This is serious. Ive never
felt this way about a guy before. The fact that I feel it about ScooterI mean Fred. Please just call me.
And please dont hate me.
M

Sent: April 26, 2005 1:42 PM
Like I said on the phone, I dont hate you. Im very, very happy for you.
Im just sad for me.
Because now Im going to be the only person in our entire school not going to this reunion. Except for
Crazy Eyes Saunders.
Oh well, no one ever said a life of rock n roll was easy.
Jo

May I make a suggestion? Why dont you email Mike back and ask him if hed like to get together when
he comes to the city next month? Fred says he sees Mike occasionally at TGIFs, and that he seems like a
nice guy. He said the only thing the two of them ever talk about is us . . . how funny we were. He says
Mike gets a certain look in his eyes whenever your name comes up. Im not making this up, either, Fred
really said it!
And I dont mean that Mike gets crazy eyes, either.
M
PS I hesitate to add this, because I think deep down you know it, but the Rolling Stones didnt give up
on their band and moved to the suburbs when they had children, so I dont see why youd have to, either,
just because you liked a guy. Lots of rock n rollers live in New York City.
Give the guy a chance. You never know what might happen.
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Reunion

Sent: April 26, 2005 2:12 PM
Fine. Ill write to him.

But dont get your hopes up. You live in small-town America, where things are simple and sweet (except for the
serial killers). I live in the big city, where dreams are regularly crushed like ants. Dont blame me if this doesnt
work out (which it wont) Mary quite contrary.
Jo
To: All
Sent: May 31, 2005 11:15AM
BHS Class of 1995

10 Year Class Reunion
Please save the weekend of July 15 and 16
Friday night: Informal gathering at Bloomville Health Food Caf at 8:00 p.m.
Saturday morning: Picnic and tour at BHS at 11:00 a.m.
Saturday night: Dinner and dancing at BHS at 7:00 p.m.catering by our own Mary Hutchins, Owner/Pro-
prietor of Bloomville Health Foods
Entertainment courtesy of the Raving Lunatics, all the way from New York City, featuring Jo Buchanon, lead
vocalist, and Mike Saunders on the drums!
More details to follow at a later date.
If you know of anyone from our class who is not receiving email updates regarding the reunion, please have
them contact
Fred Scooter Potts or
Mary Hutchins
Remember, theres a 10% discount for BHS grads at
Bloomville Motors and Bloomville Health Foods!
--We put the Serv in Service--
--If you dont know where it came from, why would you put it in your mouth?--
18
Back To School
Back To School By Meg Cabot
This story originally appeared in one of Seventeen

Magazines back to school issues.
19
Back To School
I
got it every year, just about this time: that giddy, excited feeling, that anythinganythingcould
happen. Sure, Id never been the prettiest or most popular girl in my class before. But this year?
Things were going to be different.

Why shouldnt they? Hadnt I spent the whole summerwell, in between babysitting gigs to raise cash
for that all-important back-to-school wardrobeworking out and giving up dessert so I could lose those
last pesky five pounds? Not to mention laying on the roof of our carport, smothered in Coppertone with
Sun-In in my hair, trying to get that healthy summer glowno mean feat while battling a mom who kept
calling me inside to empty the dishwasher.
But if I could just get him to look at meand you all know who he was: Mr. Perfect, the guy with the
locker next door to mine, who never gave me a second glance because of her, Ms. Perfect, who seemed
to have achieved the ideal wardrobe, body, and highlights without the slightest bit of effort, and who was
consequently glued at the hips to himit would all have been worth iteven the hours Id spent in the
mall, attempting to replicate the cute outfits Id seen in the pages of the two-inch thick fall issues of my
favorite magazines.
And okay, by mall I mean outlet mall. But the stuff I found there looked almost exactly like the design-
er stuff in the photos, for a fraction of the price!
By the time the first day of school finally rolled around, and Id strutted to the bus stop (because my
friends and I had parents who couldnt afford to buy us cars for our birthdays), Id barely be able to
contain my excitement. Sure, the guys my best friend and I rode to school with (and had known since
kindergarten) pretended they didnt notice a differencebut we didnt miss the sidelong glances they shot
us from behind their Raybans. We looked good. They knew it. We knew it.
This year, things were going to be different.
The excitement lasted all the way until I got off the bus.
And then I saw her, Ms. Perfect, getting out of the red convertible her parents had gotten her for her
birthday.
She was wearing my exact same outfitonly she had the real designer stuff Id seen in the magazines,
not knock-offs from the outlet mall.
There wasnt an ounce of spare fat on her. Her tan was all over, the result of water-skiing at the lake all
summer, not hours stolen here and there on top of a carport. Her highlights were salon-perfect, not the
result of at-home experimentation.
When I finally made it to my locker a few minutes later, there she was, in a liplock with him, Mr. Per-
fect.
And then it would hit me, all over again:
Nothing was going to be different this year. Nothing had changed. And nothing ever would.
20
Back To School
Until, it turned out, college.

It happened the first month of school: I had finally given up on trying to be the prettiest, or the most
popular. I didnt bother tanning, or trying to lose weight, or even getting a new fall wardrobe before
school started. I was more concerned about getting into the right classes and making new friends in the
dorm at the massive state university Id gotten into.
I was barreling along campusI still didnt have a car, but I had a kickass computer to write my novels
and short stories onso I almost didnt see the guy until I practically ran into him, and he said my name.
I looked up, astonished. On a campus of thirty thousand people, what were the chances that, at eight
thirty in the morning, Id run into someone I knew?
But there he was: Mr. Perfect.
I didnt know you go here! he cried, happily. You look great. Hey, you should stop by the frat house
tonight. Were having a party. Id love to see you, catch up on old times. Heres my number.
I stared at him, confused. Where was Ms. Perfect?
Then I remembered. Theyd broken up right before graduation.
This was my big chance. Things were finally going to be different now.
Sorry, I heard myself saying. I cant. Im busy.
His face fell. But
I gotta go, I said. Sorry. Bye.
When I got to class, I threw his number away. Because things were different now. The most important
thing of all:
Me.
21
You Rock, Jen Greenley
You Rock, Jen Greenley By Meg Cabot
This short story was the inspiration for what later went on
to become my book TEEN IDOL. The story You Rock, Jen
Greenley originally appeared in the teen magazine YM. YM
ceased publication in 2004, after 72 years in circulation.
22
I
witnessed the kidnapping of Betty Ann Mulvaney.
Well, me and the twenty-three other people in first period Latin class at Clayton High School (student
population 1,000).
Unlike everybody else, however, I actually did something to try to stop it. Well, sort of. I went, Kurt.
What are you doing?
Kurt just rolled his eyes. He was all, Relax, Jen. Its a joke, okay?
But there really wasnt anything all that funny in the way Kurt Schraeder swiped Betty Ann from Mrs.
Mulvaneys desk, then stuffed her into his Jansport. Some of her yellow yarn hair got caught in the teeth
of his backpacks zipper, and everything.
Kurt didnt care. He just went right on zipping.
I should have said something more. I should have said, Put her back, Kurt.
Only I didnt.
Kurt was already high-fiving all of his friends, the other jocks who hang in the back row. They had to
hide their smirks behind their workbooks when Mrs. Mulvaney came in after the second bell, a steaming
cup of coffee in her hand.
Good morning, Mrs. Mulvaney sang.
Then she froze, her gaze going to the place on her desk where Betty Ann normally sat.
Betty Ann? Mrs. Mulvaney said, in this funny high-pitched voicea voice that pierced my heart.
Because the thing is, Mrs. Mulvaney loves that stupid doll.
When Mrs. Mulvaney asked us if wed seen Betty Ann, no one said anything. Because everybodyin-
cluding meis scared of Kurt. You just dont cross a guy like that. If Kurt Schraeder wants to kidnap a
teachers Cabbage Patch doll, you just let him, because otherwise youll end up in a body cast.
You dont think theyre going to do anything to her, do you? I asked my best friend Trina at lunch that
day. What if they cut off her ear and send it to Mrs. M with a ransom note?
Oh my God, Trina said. Would you get a grip? Its just a prank, okay? The seniors pull one every
year.
Its just.... I couldnt get the picture of Betty Anns yarny hair getting caught in that zipper out of my
head. It just seems so wrong. Mrs. Mulvaney really loves that doll. I thinkI think somebody should
say something to Kurt.
Trina rolled her eyes. Do you have a death wish?
Whos got a death wish? Scott Bennet wanted to know, as he and his girlfriend Geri Lynn slid into
chairs at our lunch table.
Trina pointed at me and said, Miss Jennifer Greenley here. She wants to try and get Betty Ann back
23
from Kurt.
Ha, Geri Lynn said. Been nice knowing you, Jen.
Geri Lynn jiggled her can of Diet Coke as she spoke. Geri Lynn likes her Diet Coke flat, so she jiggles
the can until it gets that way. But that isnt actually the weirdest thing about Geri Lynn. The weirdest
thing about Geri Lynnif you ask me, anywayis that every time she and Scott make out in her parents
basement rec room, Geri draws a little heart in her date book to mark the occasion.
I know this because she showed it to me once. There was a heart on like every single page.
Which is kind of funny. I mean that Geri and Scott are even going out. Because some peoplelike
Trina, for instancethink Scott and I would make a better couple. On account of how he and I check
out all the same books from the school library. Not that weve ever discussed this. Its just that whenever I
go to check out a book, Scotts signature is always there, right above mine, on the books sign-out card.
Trina says Scott might have asked me out, instead of Geri, if it wasnt for the fact that Im so shy, Ive
barely ever even talked to him.
Still, I couldnt help noticingthe last time Geri opened her datebookthat lately, there havent been
all that many hearts in it.
Jens right, was what Scott said, to my total and complete surprise. I know its a prank. But pranks
are supposed to be funny. And this ones justnot.
Geri Lynn stopped jiggling her can.
Hello, she said. What do you care? Its just a stupid doll.
But Betty Ann isnt just a doll, Scott said, echoingas he seemed to do so oftenmy own feelings
exactly. Shes sort of like the unofficial school mascot. Kurts gone too far this time. Somebodys got to
do something.
Geri rolled her eyes and went, Fine. You two try to get that stupid doll back. Dont expect me to come
to your funerals.
Which was how I ended up in the front seat of Scott Bennets beat up old Audi later that afternoon, on
Operation Rescue Betty Ann Mulvaney.
So, he wanted to know. Whats the plan?
Yeah. I would have liked to know the same thing. The problem was, I didnt have one. All Id been
able to think about, since the moment Scott had said hed help me get Betty Ann back, was that this must
mean he likes me, at least a little. As a friend, maybe.
Which might explain why my palms were so sweaty all of a sudden.
Um, I said. I guess the plan iswe go to his house? I know he was heading home after school. I
overheard him telling some guys hed meet them at the lake.
24
Sounds good, Scott said, and made the turn onto Sycamore, Kurts street. But what, exactly, are we
going to do then? Break in and take her? Shouldnt we wait until dark? Get some night-vision goggles?
Funny, I said. Just drive.
When we drove up to Kurts house, his Grand Am wasnt in the driveway.
So, Scott said, as he pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off. What now?
I dont know, I said. I guesswe knock on the door and see if the dolls here? I doubt he took her to
the lake with him.
Scott followed me up the steps to the Schraeders front door. I hoped he couldnt see how hard my heart
was beating beneath my T-shirt. The truth was, I was totally nervous. My stomach hurt. My hands were
still all sweatybut not because I was afraid of Kurt.
The door was opened by Kurts little sister. Her name, according to the gold necklace she wore, was
Vicky.
Scott and I exchanged glances. Then, before he could say a word, I dropped my hands down to my
knees (which was good, because then I could wipe the sweat off on my jeans) so that my gaze was level
with hers and said, Hi! Is your brother home?
Vicky pulled the braid tip shed been sucking on out of her mouth and went, No. He went to the
lake.
Oh, no, I said, trying to look disappointed. Well, did he leave something for me? A doll?
Vickys eyes grew even wider. You mean Betty Ann?
Yes, I said, brightly. Betty Ann. See, its my turn to look after her. Kurt probably forgot to tell you.
Could you do me a favor? Could you run and get her for me?
Back went the tip of the braid into the mouth.
Im not allowed to go in Kurts room, Vicky said, as she sucked energetically. He said if I did it again,
hed pound me.
Oh, he wont mind this one time, Vicky, I said. In fact, youll be doing him a huge favor. Because
you see, if I dont get Betty Ann back, and right this very minute, someone is going to go to the school
principal and tell him that Kurts the one who took Betty Ann in the first place, and then Kurt probably
wont get to graduate.
The braid dropped from Vickys mouth. Someone would do that?
Oh, yes, I said. Someone would. So you see, youd really be helping Kurt if you could do this one
little thing.
Okay, Vicky said, with a shrug. Ill be right back.
She took off. When I glanced at Scott, he was shaking his head at me
25
but there was a smile on his lips.

What happened to you? he wanted to know.
What do you mean? I asked, a little alarmed. I thought maybe I had something on my face.
You never used to be like this, Scott said. You used to...I dont know. Be kind of shy. This the most
Ive heard you talkever.
I couldnt believe hed noticed. That hed even been paying attention. To me.
I dont know, I said, looking away so he wouldnt see that I was blushing. I guess I just decided to
take a stand.
Ill say, Scott said.
We heard running footsteps, and then Vicky reappeared, Betty Ann in her arms.
Here she is, Vicky said, handing the doll over. I found her under Kurts bed.
Thanks, Vicky, I said, tucking Betty Ann beneath my arm. Youre the best. Bye! Vicky called, and
waved as we hurried down the steps to Scotts car.
Once we were a safe distance from Sycamore, Scott glanced at me and said, That was the coolest thing
Ive ever seen. You rock, Jen Greenley.
It wasnt a heart in a datebook.
But I couldnt help feeling like it was a start.
26
Girls Guide to New York Through the Movies

By Meg Cabot
This piece originally appeared in Metropolis Found, a collection

compiled to celebrate the 25th Anniversary of New York is Book
Country, an annual book festival. The book, which included
contributions by authors including Donald Westlake, Billy Collins,
Susan Isaacs, Lawrence Block, Robert Lipsyte, Ruth Reichl,
and Edwidge Danticat, is now out of print. Here is the piece I
contributed:
27
I
ts probably not surprising that, before moving to New York Citystraight out of college, and from
Indiana, the heart of the Midwest--the only thing I knew about the Big Apple was what Id garnered
from the movies.
Though I was in for a bit of a rough ride at firstI hadnt seen any movies depicting New York City trash
and phone service strikes, both of which were underway when I arrived in Manhattan in 1989movie lore
served me pretty well as a guide to the big city, and has yet to fail me.
Consider:
GhostThis movie convinced me that it is easy for sculptors to find affordable and enormous lofts in
Soho. Although I have since become disabused of this notion, lingering doubt remains: maybe if I look
just a little longer, I too will find an 3000 square foot duplex with parquet floors for $900 a month and no
brokers fee.
Rosemarys Baby The Dakota really is just as dark and spooky inside as it is in the movie. But you still
cant beat it for an unimpeded view of the Macys Thanksgiving Day Parade.
DaylightThis thriller starring Sylvester Stallone, who becomes trapped inside a flooded Holland Tunnel
after an explosion, has caused me closely to scrutinize every door marked Personnel Only along the tunnel
every time I whiz past them. Ive also memorized the locations of all the fire extinguishers down there, in
case I need to grab one and use it to knock down the Personnel Only door in order to escape the roaring
waters of the East River.
Breakfast at Tiffanys I fell for this movies assertion that living in a six floor walk-up can be charming,
when in truth, there is nothing charming about a ditzy girl who lives upstairs and is always losing her cat
and bothering while youre busy trying to write on your novel. No wonder George Peppards character
never got any work done while he was living in that building.
Funny Face Another misleader: the dark Greenwich village bookshop in which Audrey Hepburn is
discovered by photographer Fred Astaire looks very sweet and bohemian. But as any of girl who frequents
dark bookshops in Manhattan knows, they are just breeding grounds for bearded men in sandals with
socks who try to hit on you by asking what you think of David Eggerss new book. Ew! (To the guys in
the socks, not Dave Eggers.)
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three I have ridden the subway for over 20 years now, and never once
has my train been hijacked, giving me a really good excuse to be late for work. But hope springs eternal.
Spiderman I always thought that the Roosevelt cable car looked dangerous, and now that I know how
easily the Green Goblin can sever it from its moorings, I for one will take the subway in the unlikely event
that I ever need to go to Roosevelt Island.
QuicksilverThere is some dispute over in which city, exactly, this movie is set. But there is no disput-
ing that in it, Kevin Bacon plays a failed investment banker who becomes a bicycle messenger. The films
denouement seems to take place in the meat packing district, where Kevin raceson a bikethe evil Gypsy,
who is driving a car. Not to give away the ending, but if you know of an overpass downtown that ends in
a sudden drop off into the Hudson, could you please contact me? Thanks.
28
Moonstruck*I had no interest whatsoever in opera until the scene where Cher is at the Met with
Nicholas Cage, and the lights start going upphysically! By themselves. I had to see this phenomenon for
myself, and so scored tickets to Medea early in my first year in Manhattan. The lights were as big a thrill
in person as they were on film. Now I love opera. Who knew?
*Special note: Moonstruck is also the movie at the conclusion of which I heard a fellow Hoosier--seated
not far from me at the Von Lee Theater in Bloomington, Indiana, where I first saw this--breathe as the
credits rolled, Oh, I just love movies about Jewish people! All the characters in this film are Italian.
When Harry Met Sally Its not the Katzs deli scene--which is great but could have happened any-
wherethat always got to me. Instead, its the scene where Harry gets out of the station wagon in front of
the arch at Washington Square. If you look through the arch behind Billy Crystal, you can see the World
Trade Center. The fact that you can no longer see the towers still troubles and awes me, even though I
witnessed their collapse in person. After moving to NYC, the Twin Towers quickly came to serve as my
compass for finding the direction of downtown. For years after they disappeared, I felt directionless. At
times, like so many New Yorkers, I still do.
Now that I have lived in New York for more than a decade, I have contributed my own fictional inter-
pretation of it to the public consciousnessthough in the movie version of my book, my characters have
been mysteriously transported to San Francisco. In Mia Thermopoliss Manhattan, however, the Twin
Towers are still standing; my favorite Chinese restaurantsGreat Shanghai and Number One Noodle
Sonare still serving; and the Cote dAzure principality of Genovia will always pale in comparison to my
kingdom of choice, the city that never sleeps.
29
My character
My Character By Meg Cabot
This was a piece I did in 2007 for something in England

called Storyquest, with the Princes Foundation for
Children and the Arts. During Storyquest, storytelling
events took place all around the UK, at schools, libraries,
and book festivals, emphasizing the importance of story
and how story has changed lives and history. Some of the
other storytellers with whom I worked during Storyquest
were the authors Michael Murpurgo (War Horse), Jacqueline
Wilson (Bad Girls), and Frank Cotrell Boyce (Millions).
The following was written as a performance piece to be read

out loud (thats why so many of the words are in capital
letters, so I wouldnt forget which words to emphasize while
I was reading it)! All of the Storyquest participants were
instructed to write a story about one of the characters in the
picture below. I chose the blond girl in the yellow dress with
the green dragon flying over her head.
In the spirit of Storyquest, you are welcome to perform this

piece if you want, but please dont forget to credit it to Meg
Cabot, Storyquest 2007. All rights reserved.
30
My character
O
h my God, I cant believe this is even happening. I am so going to kill Stephanie, she SWORE
she and Drew would meet me here. It is so TYPICAL of her not to show up. I knew shed ditch
me. She is ALWAYS ditching me. Just because she has a boyfriend now, she thinks she can treat
her old friends like dirt. And when I complain, shes all, Oh, Julia, youre just jealous because I have a
boyfriend and you dont.
As if! I wouldnt date Drew if you PAID me. Stephanie says I dont have realistic expectations where
boys are concerned.
But I know someday my prince will come. I KNOW IT.
Still, of all the times for Steph to ditch me. I mean, seriously, what is up with the dude with the tuba
back at the end of the line? Why does he keep STARING at me? What is he even supposed to be? A guy
playing the tuba? What kind of Halloween costume is THAT?
Maybe that isnt his costume. Maybe hes, like, in the school band. He looks kind of familiar.
Oh my God, if anyone I know sees me here Im going to DIE. These people are so WEIRD.
And, no offense, but the pirate suit on the guy in front of me? It is SO not convincing. Im sorry, but I
saw Pirates of the Caribbean five times and, um, hello, Orlando didnt look anything like that.
And whats with the kid at the head of the line with the sword? I cant believe his parents would even let
him buy that, he is WAY too young to be playing with sharp objects. Maybe thats why this lines taking
so long--hes trying to talk them into buy it for him?
I swear, if this thing doesnt start moving soon, I am seriously leaving and going over to Costumes R Us,
because this is getting RIDICULOUS.
Speaking of which, I dont recognize ANYONE here. Am I the ONLY person from Washington Irving
High who understands that you are supposed to wear a COSTUME to a HALLOWEEN DANCE? Its
bad enough I dont even have a date. But if I am the only one in the whole school who shows up in cos-
tume, I am going to die.
And it will all be Stephanies fault. WHERE IS SHE? She SWORE shed buy a costume, too. Even
though Drew says dressing up is immature.
Im surprised he can pronounce such a long word.
Oh my God, the band geek is STILL STARING at me. I am so glad Stephanie isnt here to witness this.
She says all the guys in Band are losers.
31
My character
Although, seriously, if you think about it, at least guys who are in Band DO something. You know,
besides play video games all day, like SOME PEOPLE. Named Drew.
OK, be cool. Dont look at Tuba Guy. Ill just keep my eyes on my shopping list here. Do I have every-
thing I need? Tiara. Check. Ball gown. Check. I cant BELIEVE Stephanie said it wasnt very original
of me to dress up as a princess. She had the nerve to say it was no wonder no boy had asked me to the
dance, since I actually planned going as a princess.
But I totally could have gotten a date if I wanted to. I mean, I could have asked someone myselfif
there were anyone even worth going with at Washington Irving. Which there isnt. If I wanted a boring
jerk like Drew who thinks everything fun is immature, maybe. But is it MY fault I would like a boyfriend
who, I dont know, actually has interests?
I dont care what Stephanie says. Someday, my prince is going to come. Im not settling for some jerk
like
WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG? Why did I have to pick the longest check-out line in the entire store?
Is Tuba Guy still looking at me? Oh my God, he IS. Oh my God. He just SMILED!!! Okay, Tuba Guy
just smiled at me. I am dying. I am totally dying.
He has a seriously cute smile, though.
You know, I dont get why Stephanie is so convinced that all guys in Band are losers. At least they know
how to play an instrument. What does DREW know how to do? Get high score on Doom 3. And thats
it.
Maybe I should smile back at Tuba Guy. Just a quick smile. Like this.
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! My mobiles going off!!!!
Hello? Stephanie? Where ARE you? Yes, Im still at Costumes Galore, you should see the lineWhat
do you mean you arent going? Yes, I know Drew thinks Halloween Dances are stupid, but-- Well, just
come to the dance without him. What do you mean, only losers go to dances alone? I AM GOING
TO THE DANCE ALONE. DOES THAT MAKE ME A LOSER, STEPHANIE? IS THAT WHAT
YOURE SAYING?
Oh my God. Tuba Guy is coming over. HE IS COMING OVER HERE. TO ME. Okay, be cool.
Um, hold on a minute, Stephanie.
Okay. Smile at Tuba Guy. Oh my God, hes even cuter up close.
Hi. Why, yes, I DO go to Washington Irving High. Oh, you do, too? I thought I recognized you
from somewhere. Youre in the band, right? Well, yeah, the tuba DOES kind of give it away. What? Yes,
I AM going to the dance tonight. Oh? You ARE???
What? Well, I guess that would be--Um. Could you just hang on a sec?
OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE HE ASKED ME TO THE DANCE!!!! TUBA GUY ASKED ME
32
My character
TO THE DANCE!!!!
Hello, Stephanie? Ive got to go. Ive got a date. No, you dont know him. Hes in Band.
Oh, really? Well, you know what, Stephanie? I dont really care what you think. Bye.
Um, sorry about that. Now. Where were we? Me? Oh, Im going as awell, its kind of dumb, but
as a princess.
Youre going as a what? Wow. What a coincidence!
I KNEW someday my prince would come.
33
Every Girls Dream
Every Girls Dream By Meg Cabot
I cant remember anymore where this short story featuring

Jesse and Suze from the Mediator series first appeared (its
a stand alone story, not featured in any of the books). Its
possible that it was for YM, a teen magazine that went out
of print in 2004. In any case, its been available on the
Mediator series page for free on megcabot.com for some
time, and now its available free here as well. Enjoy!
34
Every Girls Dream
T
here I was, in a long white Jessica McClintock dress and orchid wrist corsage, moonlight play-
ing on my hair and a pair of strong arms encircling my waist, while a masculine voice gently
whispered my name: Susannah. My dance partners breath was soft against my cheek. Susan-
nah....
Yeah. In my dreams.
In real life, the voice calling my name wasnt a bit masculine. Thats because it belonged to a twelve-
year-old boy.
Uh, Suze? Yeah, theres something seriously wrong with these cannolis.
I tore my gaze from the whirling couples before me and looked down. Instead of the total hottie in a
tux Id been imagining, standing beside me was my redheaded stepbrother, holding a tray of Italian pas-
tries.
Kellys really mad, Docknown as David to everyone but mesaid. She says theyre
like deformed, or something.
Kelly was right. The cannolis were deformed. As vice-president of the sophomore class, and reluctant
chairperson of the junior/senior prom committee (I had been appointed to the position when no other
sophomore volunteered), I had tried to cut corners, using Docs seventh grade Home Ec class as caterers.
This was what I got for my efforts: deformed cannolis.
Not that I cared. Especially considering the fact that I was the only sophomore girl in the entire school,
practically, who had not been asked to this particular dance. This dance I was chairperson of. What did I
care about the stupid refreshments?
Oh, all right already. I cared.
Suze, are you insane? Kelly Prescott came stalking up, the skirt of her Nicole Miller evening gown
shimmering in the moonlight that poured into the Missions fountained courtyard. You actually expect
people to eat those?
I looked down at the pastries, which were supposed to be tube-like shells but which looked more like
pretzels.
Are there any more cannolis, or are these the last batch? I asked Doc.
Um, he said, looking nervously at Kelly, who, being the most beautiful girl in Carmel, California,
considered the two of us, mere mortals, complete freaks. She was right about one of us. And it wasnt
Doc. There should be more.
Fine, I said. I took the tray of cannolis from him. To Kelly I said, Dont worry about it. Ill take
care of it. Go back to your date.
Kellys date, senior-class president Greg Sanderson, was standing beneath a nearby palm tree, tall and
cooly handsome in his tux. He was one of the best looking guys in school, so it was only fitting that hed
35
Every Girls Dream
asked Kelly, though a lowly sophomore, to his prom....

Still, hed only done so after his original date, Cheryl McKenna, unexpectedly, well....
Died.
But hey, it was Greg. What kind of fool would turn down an invitation to go to prom with Greg?
Ill tell you what kind: me. Not that hed asked me, of course. But if he had, Id have been forced to
decline. Because my heart belongs to another. For all the good it does me.
Giving Kelly a smile she didnt deserve, I whisked the offending pastries back to the Mission Acad-
emys kitchens. Built something like four hundred years ago by Franciscan monks, back in the days when
three foot thick walls and giant oak beams overhead were not considered decor donts, the Mission, now
a school, had updated the appliancesand added wiringso that as I entered the kitchen, I could see my
reflection in the huge Subzero fridge at the far end of the room. And lets just say I was not thrilled by
what I saw.
Oh, the long white dress was fine. With my shoulder-length dark hair and the corsagebought for me
by my stepfatherI looked like a girl from another time.
The problem was the reflection I saw alongside mine. And that was the reflection of someone who really
was from another time.
I whirled around fast to face him.
What, I demanded, are you doing here?
Id nearly dropped the cannolis. He took the tray and set it gently on a nearby counter.
Hello, querida, he said, with a smile. Nice to see you, too.
It was the smile that did it. The smile that, each and every time I saw it, caused something inside of me
to wilt.
Because even though hes been dead a hundred fifty years, Jesse is still the handsomest guy Ive ever seen.
And Ive seen a lot of them. Guys, I mean. Because, like the kid in that movie, I can see dead people.
Only unlike that kid, the ghosts dont scare me. One of them I sometimes think I might even love.
Okay, Im pretty sure I do love.
Not that Im about to let him know it. Because what kind of guyeven a dead onecould possibly ever
love a freak like me?
But that doesnt mean I cant dream.
I happen, I said, looking away from Jesses shrewd, night-dark eyesnot to mention the place where his
old-fashioned shirt fell open to reveal a set of abs Greg Sanderson would have enviedto be extremely
busy right now.
36
Every Girls Dream
Oh, I can see that, Susannah, Jesse said.

I mean it, I said. I dont have time to chat. I am in charge of making this prom a night these people
will always remember.
Jesse was leaning against one of the countertops, his arms folded across his chest. These people, he
echoed, with another one of those smiles. But not you?
Its not my prom, I said, with a shrug, trying not to notice how darkly tanned those arms of his were
against the whiteness of his shirt. For a ghost, Jesse is extremely buff.
So that means no dancing for you? he asked.
I froze with a tray of fresh newundeformedcannolis Id just removed from the fridge in my hands.
Dancing? I could feel heat rushing into my cheeks. He isnt, I told myself sternly, asking you to
dance. Hes just asking in general. Dont get your hopes up.
It was too late. Already, in my minds eye, Jesse and I had joined the other couples out in that moonlit
courtyard, those strong arms of his circling my waist, his soft breath against my cheek....
Yes, dancing, Jesse said. Surely even in the twenty-first century, people still dance.
I drew in a breath, wondering even as I did how I was going to reply.
I never got a chance to find out. Because before I could say a word, I saw her.
Greg? she called. Greg? Where are you?
My jaw dropped. Id have recognized that lustrous blonde hair anywhere, but the hospital gown was a
dead give away. No pun intended.
Oh, no, I said.
Cheryl, hearing my voice, came to stand uncertainly in the kitchen doorway. Her lovely, blue-eyed gaze
was hopeful as she looked at Jesse and me.
Hello, she said, in the dazed but polite manner so often employed by the recently dead. Have you
seen my boyfriend, Greg? He was supposed to bring me here tonight, only he never showed up. He
must have forgotten.
Jesse and I exchanged glances. His was unreadable. Mine, as I was able to see only too well in my
reflection in the fridge, was miserable.
Well, and why not? Seeing Cheryl like this was just further proof of my freakishness.
Cheryl, I said, putting down the tray of cannolis. Listen. Greg didnt forget to pick you up.
Cheryl blinked like someone waking from a dream. Perhaps thats what death is. Who knows? Well,
Jesse knows, only he wont tell me.
37
Every Girls Dream
He must have forgotten, Cheryl said. Its prom night.

I know, Cheryl, I said, gently. It is prom night. And Greg is here.
Cheryls lovely face lit up. Hes here? Where? Oh, Ive got to find him.
She turned to rush from the kitchen. I stopped her. The spirits of the dead are without matterto
everyone but freaks like me, of course. To us, they are flesh and boneor, as in Jesses case, muscle and
mysterious smiles.
Gregs here, Cheryl, I said. But...hes here with someone else.
Cheryls eyes filled instantly with tears. But that cant be, she said, her voice rising slightly. He asked
me. Months ago.
I know, Cheryl, I said. But Greg had to ask someone else because you...well, you died, Cheryl.
She shook her head. No, I didnt, she said. Thats ridiculous. Im not dead. Look at me. Im stand-
ing right here. I am not dead.
Youre standing right here in a hospital gown, I pointed out. Cheryl, Im sorry, but you died of a
burst appendix two months ago. If you go out there nowif you try to talk to Greghe wont see you. He
cant. I can only see you because...well, because its what I do. But the truth is, Cheryl, youre dead.
I saw itthe horror as my words sank inspread across her lovely features.
And thats when she went mental.
Could you blame her? Shed been eighteen, and in love. Shed had everything to live for...college, ca-
reer, marriage, kids...and now....
Well, now it was all gone.
NO! she screamed, her lovely face contorting into a mask of rage and despair. NO! I dont believe
you! Youre lying!
She wrenched free from my grasp.
Youre just jealous, thats all! she screamed. Jealous of me!
Thats when she brought both fists down into the tray of cannolis, sending its contents flying.
And not the deformed cannolis, either.
Stop it! I yelled, stepping forward and seizing her by both wrists. No matter how much she contorted
her body or kicked out to be free, I wouldnt let her go. Not this time.
You are dead, Cheryl, I said. Do you hear me? Dead. Its not fair, but its the way things are. I wish
you had gotten to go to your prom. I know its every girls dream to go to prom with the guy she loves.
But Cheryl, Greg has moved on. It was hard from him, but he did it. Its time you did the same.
38
Every Girls Dream
Something in my wordsmaybe the assurance that Greg had not had an easy time coping with her
death, for all Kelly Prescott might wish otherwisedrove all the fight from her. She sagged against me.
Then, a second later, I heard her murmur, I really am dead, arent I?
And then she was gone. Just like that.
Jesse, who had not stirred the whole time from the spot hed been standing, confident I could handle
Cheryl myself, was grinning.
Its every girls dream to guy to go to prom with the guy she loves? he echoed, not just one, but both
inky black eyebrows raised.
Dont start with me, I said. I tried to hide my suddenly flaming cheeks by scraping away what was left
of the cannolis, and replacing them with the contents of an upended bag of chocolate chip cookies. I
have things to do.
Oh, yes, Jesse said, getting out of my way as I stormed past him. I can see that.
If Id hoped the night air would cool the fire in my face, I was disappointed. I was still feeling strangely
flushed when I found Doc out in the courtyard, and shoved the tray of cookies at him.
Suze, these arent cannolis, he said.
I know. There arent any more cannolis.
I thought there was a whole
Not anymore, I said, shortly, and turned away because I saw Kelly glaring at us from over Gregs
shoulder. Whatever had happened now, I did not want to know. Because it could not possibly be as bad
as what had happened to poor Cheryl McKenna, dead at eighteen.
Or to me, born a freak who can see ghosts.
But when I ducked into the shadows of the Missions open-air corridor, hoping to escape, for a moment,
the music and laughter, I found that I was not, in fact, alone at all. Jesse had followed me.
You never answered my question, he said, in a voice that was soft as moonlight. Do people in the
twenty-first century still dance?
My heart beat thundered in my ears, far louder than the slow music. Um, I said, barely able to swal-
low, my throat had gone so dry. Sometimes.
How about now? he asked.
And then his strong arms were encircling my waist, his breath soft against my cheek as he gently whis-
pered my name: Susannah. Susannah....
The End
39

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Reunion

Reunion By Meg Cabot

This short story originally appeared in the anthology Girls

Bloomville High School Class of 1995

Owner/Operator Bloomville Motors

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

Oh my God, Jo. Did you see it?

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

I still f***ing hate her.

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Careful, Mary, Mary, your contrariness is showing.

<To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

WHO IS MIKE SAUNDERS????

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Crazy Eyes! Crazy Eyes Saunders is stalking me!!!!!

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Cant wait to catch up!

To: Scooter Potts <Scooter@bloomvillemotors.com>

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Okay, Mary, so I wrote him back.

<To: Mike Saunders <MikeS@bloomvillegazette.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Seriously, Mary, are you blowing me off, or something?

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY GOD!!!! I WROTE TO CRAZY EYES SAUNDERS AND LOOK WHAT

<To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

HOW DID YOU KNOW?

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Mary, Im not judging you.

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

To: Jo Buchanon <JBuchanon@ravinglunatics.com

To: Mary Hutchins <Mary@bloomvillehealthfoods.com

Fine. Ill write to him.

BHS Class of 1995

Back To School By Meg Cabot

This story originally appeared in one of Seventeen

Things were going to be different.

Until, it turned out, college.

You Rock, Jen Greenley By Meg Cabot